GREEN TIE. Black suit. Big smile. It's Mick McCarthy playing the role of winning manager. Been a long time. The dialogue is rusty.

"Well done Jack," somebody says. He folds the smile and puts it in his pocket. So, Mick McCarthy in a green tie and black suit back in front of the mugs from the press. Bah.

"Fifteen months in the job and you're still just getting the name right."

As five goal beatings go, this wasn't exactly a fiesta. Once upon a time Irish teams used to take out the knuckle dusters for occasions like this. Mick McCarthy's death by a thousand passes approach demands more patience from the fans formerly known as the greatest in the world.

After 22 minutes last night the weather had worsened and for a brief period, the only sounds audible in the gaping Lansdowne silence were the hiss of rain on grass and the sighing of Mick McCarthy.

The attendance drummed its fingers like diners getting had service in a so-so restaurant.

Not long afterwards, however, it had started drizzling goals. David Connolly's reward for ending the famine was a return to normal volume in the stadium and a trip down to the pavilion to sit beside Mick McCarthy for a press conference. The most pleasing aspect of the affair had apparently been Connolly's proud expounding of the unfashionable `greed is good' philosophy.

"I didn't ask him to assume any role," said the manager, still a little terse. "He's not the new John Aldridge by the way, before you go writing that in your papers.

"He's scored more goals that Aldo scored in his first 15 games. In fairness to tonight, it was a game in which he should score goals. For the first two he had a bit of work to do. He should score goals in that game but he's done it."

"I gave him a bollocking at halftime, thought it would liven him up to score a bit in the second half. There is all this speculation around him. It's hard but he's not yet been there, seen it, done it and bought the Tshirt. He's hungry for it."

"Mick isn't bestowing the sunshine of his smile on us benighted hacks tonight. We turn to the kid. Where are your parents from then sonny?

"Leitrim and Galway," says Connolly.

And what are their names we ask, scenting a story here. Maybe he won't know their names.

"Tom and Margaret," says he who shall be known as the hat trick hero.

"Connolly," says Mick McCarthy, Emeritus Professor of Investigative Journalism at Barnsley.

"They're different class," says Connolly. Nobody follows up on this.

The talk turns, instead, to the business of Tony Cascarino's second half performance.

"I was pleased with Cas," says McCarthy. "After Macedonia, I was disappointed with Cas, that's why I left him out in Romania. Tonight he proved he still has something to offer if we get the service into him. I was nearly putting him on after 25 minutes. They were sitting back. The decision was vindicated when he went on, though. Two great headers and two good crosses from Jeff.

"It could have been far more, but we've got to be happy with what we've got. It's got us back on the goalscoring trail and the points trail. It'll seem a lot healthier tomorrow morning when I look at that league and I might be able to even enjoy the next six to eight weeks and then get back into it again."

As for the referee. There is no better way of getting back on the right side of a manager than to collude with him in sniping at the referee.

The referee was terrible Mick, we say, rolling our eyes. Indeed, on loan from the People's Whistle Blowing Collective of Minsk, the referee had worked hard to bring up his monthly quota of bookings and stern lectures, scribbling the names of three Irish players into his book during an uncontentious game. We have hit pay dirt.

"I thought the booking of Gary Kelly was disgraceful," says Mick. "The referee was bizarre, to say the least. I think we had three bookings and they had one. There wasn't a bad tackle in the game. I think Jeff Kenna got hooked for winking at the referee."

Aha. Having shown him some silver lining, we introduced Mick McCarthy to the sort of cloud he associates with press conferences.

"It means you are without Gary Kelly and Jason McAteer for the next game. Isn't that the beginnings of a problem?"

"Maybe," he says, "but I've two months to think about it."

Nature abhors a vacuum. Journalists abhor an evening when what is supposed to happen just happens.

One brave soul tries to stoke the thing up again.

Thirteen corners in the first half Mick, and no goals from any of them Mick. Aren't you a bit disappointed in the play from setpieces?

"You're going to start with the negativity. There's always one bloke in here who'll start with it and in fairness, you never let me down. .

And managers abhor a press conference. Five nil and business as usual then.